Appearances Decieve
by GLEEK727
Summary: Hermione receives a letter a week after Harry's death, bringing about long buried secrets concerning Harry's parents.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer-I am not British, talented, or rich. I do not own Harry Potter.

Notes- This story is Alternate Universe and I have taken many liberties. The Wizarding War didn't end until years after the Golden Trio left Hogwarts, and Voldemort killed Harry, rather than vice versa. Snape hasn't died yet, and is very much alive during this story. He is reigning as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Enjoy!

Hermione Granger sat with her head between her hands, at the foot of her bed, weeping softly in order to avoid the questions of her husband and children. Life hadn't been the same since the end of the war, and no matter how hard Hermione and Ron tried to restore some semblance of normalcy in their lives, it just wasn't the same now that Harry was gone. They had been friends for far too long to just go on with their everyday lives; there was something missing.

Now, exactly one month after Harry's death at the hand-or, rather, wand- of Voldemort, Hermione had received a package by owl left to herself and Ron by Harry, accompanied by a letter that Hermione presumed Harry had written for the occasion something catastrophic did happen.

Shaking, Hermione warily ripped into the envelope containing Harry's last written words. She took notice of several things before even beginning to read the letter: first, Harry's handwriting was atrocious, and there were spots of ink mottling the paper, suggesting that this letter had been written in a hurry. The second thing Hermione immediately noticed, grasping her full attention, was the date of the letter: July 31, 1996. This letter had been written several years go, back in the trio's Hogwarts days.

Hermione began to read:

_Dear Hermione and Ron,_

_ The three of us are getting older now. We were never really children, what with death sentences practically prescribed for the three of us since the age of eleventh, but this is more apparent now than ever At just fifteen years old, yet another piece of information I had been denied was bestowed upon me and, well, to be honest, had it not been for the two of you, I may have ended my life today._

Hermione gasped as she read the last, shocking declaration o the late Harry Potter. Harry had never struck her as the suicidal type, and she felt a pang of misplaced anger that Harry had not chosen to enlighten her and Ron about his internal struggles.

_ I mean, as if it wasn't enough that I have hordes of psychopathic Death Eaters who would like nothing more than my head on a silver platter. As if it weren't enough that my only living relatives (well, sort of, I'll get back to tat later) hate me. Then I find out my parents weren't everything they seemed. Hell, my father wasn't even my father! You'd think someone, Dumbledore even, could have taken the time to mention this to me!_

Hermione held the yellowed paper away from her face, and then re-read what she had just seen, not quite believing what she was reading. She was no longer the naïve young witch she once was, but she still had a hard time believing that James was not Harry's biological father. Everyone, Professor Lupin, Sirius Black, her mother-in-law… they all said that Lily and James had been in love. And from what little she knew of Lily Potter, she hardly seemed the type to cheat on her husband, under any circumstances.

_I considered telling the two of you what was going on. For a while, I believed you could have helped me come to terms with the whole thing, and it really bothered me for a while. I thought I could have come to you guys for help dealing._

"You could have!" Hermione shouted. She looked around the room, startled, as she realized she had spoken rather loudly.

_ But then I thought it over some more. Ron, I was still a little nervous about the stability of our friendship after everything that happened during the whole Goblet of Fire catastrophe, and I was more than a little nervous that you would see this situation as my fault, and freeze me out again. And I just couldn't have handled losing you while this was all going on. I was worried that you would hate me just as much as you hated my father._

_ And Hermione. I considered telling you what was going on, and asking you to keep my secret in confidence. However, while I know your heart is always in the right place, I was a little unsure if you would keep the secret or not. You have a bit of history with doing what you think is right and sensible above all else, and I couldn't take that risk._

Hermione bit her lip, thinking back to their third year at Hogwarts, and the lengths she had gone to protect Harry from himself. She decided, reluctantly, that maybe Harry had been right to keep this long buried secret to himself. After all, we all need secrets to keep us company.

_ So, instead of telling you two, I decided to keep my secret hidden, and instead pen this note to you, exactly one year after I received the life-altering news. The letter is hidden in my Gringotts vault, and in the event of my untimely demise will be delivered to the two of you, accompanied by a package containing a small Pensieve with memories I would like you to have. Now, I'm sure you're wondering who my father was, but I have decided that it is simply too risky to write this down, even in Gringotts, so the answer is in the Pensieve, which is keyed to your magical signatures. Please make sure to watch every memory in the Pensieve. Each one is significant. Lastly, I'm sorry I never told you guys about this, but I hope you understand why I behaved the way I did._

_Yours truly,_

_Harry James Potter_

"Ron!" called out Hermione. "Get in here, quick! Its important." While Hermione waited, she stood in shock, not quite able to digest all the information she had been given. Who knew?

Ron ran into their bedroom soap bubbles on his hands, and appeared to be in a mode of panic.

"Hermione! Is everything okay? You sounded angry…" Ron trailed off, as he was unaware of what he had done to deserve the icy glare coming from his wife.

Ron was relieved, however, that her calm tone did not match her icy expression. "Send the kids to your sisters, now," instructed Hermione, in a voice that implied finality.

Ron nodded, knowing better than to argue with his wife when she was upset. He apparated downstairs, and Hermione collapsed on the two's king sized bed. She re-read the letter four times before Ron arrived back.

"Ginny says she's happy to watch Rose and Hugo for the afternoon, and she said to firecall her when we want them back," Ron brushed the dust off his palms as he spoke. "Sorry it took so long, but Ginny just hasn't been herself with everything that's happened lately. James is, apparently, acted out more than usual, which Ginny thinks is a response to Harry's death, and Al won't come out of his room, apparently. She's really nervous about the new baby, to be honest, I think they could barely handle things working as a team, I don't think my sister's going to be able to handle the kids by herself."

Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for Ginny, her oldest female friend. Ginny's life had been centered around Harry for years now, and now that he was finally all hers, he was gone.

Ron noticed his wife's lack of response, and decided to continue the conversation himself. "What's wrong? You're really quiet, Mione, its not like you."

Hermione wordlessly thrust Harry's letter into Ron's face. Ron took the letter, and read it unnaturally close to his face. Ron's eyesight was going with his age, and he was in desperate need of reading glasses, but wouldn't get them based on fear of appearing older.

"Bloody hell," whispered Ron, lowering the paper, after having read its contents. "Did you suspect…"

Hermione shook her head no, while reaching behind her for the package that had accompanied the letter. Ripping into the package, Hermione pulled out a ridiculously small Pensieve, which appeared much closer to a child's toy than an expensive magical tool.

"So what do we do now?" asked Ron. "I don't know about you, but something about this strikes me as a little weird."

"Learning about our best friend after he's died, and going into his personal memories only strikes you as a little weird?" snapped Hermione. She grabbed her husband by the wrist, and yanked him forward, so that both of the heads were leaning over the Pensieve.

A second later, their surroundings changed to what Ron immediately recognized as Harry's bedroom at his aunt and uncle's house. "Looks a little different without the bars," whispered Ron drily.

Hermione shushed her husband and pointed in the direction of Harry. He appeared to be about fourteen or fifteen years old, and was sifting through a box of papers. Hermione walked toward Harry cautiously, as if she thought that he was going to be able to sense her presence in the room. She stood behind him as he read a letter on dark, red paper Harry's fists shook as she sat the letter down. Hermione noted that this behavior was scarily similar to the behavior she had exhibited upon reading Harry's shocking letter to her. She concluded that this letter must be the one Harry had received informing him of his true paternity.

Harry stormed out of the room, and as a result, Hermione and Ron followed. Harry stopped after he rounded the corner into a much larger room, containing Harry's Aunt Petunia, who was sprawled out on her be reading a Muggle gossip magazine. She had some sort of green goo on her face, which made her look the Wicked Witch of the West. Hermione had to suppress a laugh, while Ron appeared absolutely horrified.

Harry held out the paper to his aunt, an expression on his face filled with so much pure anger that most reserved it just for Voldemort. Hermione was momentarily worried that Harry would behave impulsively and cause his family harm. However, Harry remained still but shaking, while his aunt grabbed the paper from him. She glanced at the first few words, and threw the paper to the floor, obviously already familiar with the letter's contents.

"Where did you find this?" Petunia asked her nephew while wearing an unnatural smile on her currently green face, which seemed to further enrage Harry.

"That letter was addressed to me, from my Mum," said Harry in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "It belongs to me. Why didn't you give this to me?"

"Because the man who dropped you on our doorstep said not to tell you, until after the evil guy was dead. Look what you've gone and done now, it'll probably kill you, knowing this. Good riddance."

Hermione was horrified at Petunia's complete lack of caring about her own nephew. Harry had never said much about his relatives, and she presumed this was why.

Petunia continued, " believe me, if we had been given a choice, we would have found that, that…" she trailed off, shaking her head, "_awful _boy and made him take you the second you were left on our doorstep. But out of the goodness of our hearts we did favors to two people: we kept you alive, and we spared your father the knowledge that he has such a terrible, awful son out there in the world. He wouldn't have liked you, anyway," she concluded. "Now, shoo, boy, I have to finish getting ready before the neighbors arrive for supper. Stay in your room if you know what's good for you." And with that, the memory faded.

The next memory began immediately after the last one finished. This time, Harry was at Hogwarts, in the bathroom of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Harry appeared to be going to great lengths to conceal his activities from his roommates, as it was the dead of night, he was making as little noise as possible, and there was a Muffliato enchantment cast around the loo's perimeter. Harry pulled his wand from his back pocket, and muttered a quiet glamour charm. Harry's face instantly became slightly rounder, and his hair a dark brown, rather than black. The differences wouldn't have even been noticeable unless one was to watch Harry very closely. Harry had obviously been extremely paranoid about anyone discovering his secret.

Harry raised a Wizarding picture to his face, and then glanced in the mirror. Hermione peered over Harry's shoulder and gasped when she saw what the picture was of; it was James and Lily, dancing in the fall. Hermione would have recognized that picture anywhere; it was one of Harry's most prized possessions. She realized as she looked at the picture a little more closely that Harry resembled James more than she had ever realized. After the spell Harry had cast, they were… identical.

The memory faded away, leading into a new scene set in the Headmaster's office. Harry was much older, closer to the age he would have been before he died. In his late twenties, Harry no longer resembled James to such a terrifying degree, so Hermione hypothesized that Harry had either changed the charm, or had stopped applying it altogether. Either way, Hermione realized, with a pang of guilt, that nobody had noticed.

Across from Harry, sat Professor Snape, who, quite frankly, never looked quite right to Hermione, sitting where Dumbledore should have been. Snape looked much older than his forty-eight years, and if Hermione had not known better, she would have estimated that the man was in his sixties. His hair, while oily, was also gray and thinning; he no longer seemed as intimidating, although Hermione was not entirely sure if this was due to her many years since being a student, or if it was because Snape seemed slightly hunched over.

Harry was positively glowering at Snape. "Why did you call me here, Professor? I'm not sure if you are aware, but I have not been a student here for many years. So if you would be so kind as to move straight to the point," said Harry coldly.

Professor Snape scowled, and in that moment, he appeared to be as menacing as Hermione had ever seen him. "I am all too aware, Potter, I have been rejoicing that momentous occasion that you left the school, and have never been happier, but that is not why I have called you here today."

Harry quirked his eyebrow, as if prompting Snape to continue. Either Snape was not very intuitive, or he was enjoying leaving Harry in suspense. Hermione was inclined to think the latter. "Listen," began Harry angrily, "I don't have to talk to you. I owe you nothing. So if you could get to the point. My wife has Quidditch practice in an hour, and I need to get back to watch my sons." Hermione took note of the fact that Harry was rubbing that spot on his arm.

"Yes, I had heard that you had married the…" Snape trailed off, smirking, "_lovely_ Virginia Weasley."

Ron snorted. Hermione had to agree that the "compliment" had come off as quite offensive. It was also very difficult to not have heard of Harry's marriage to Ron's sister. Despite the couple's best efforts; the affair had been grossly over publicized. The Daily Prophet had used the event as their front-page article for three weeks straight, and that didn't even compare to the attention Ginny's pregnancies had received. Or Harry's death, Hermione noted drily.

"My wife's name is Ginevra, as I am sure you are well aware."

Snape appeared to have lost interest in taunting Harry, and instead pulled an envelope from the middle drawer, and pulled a slip of paper from the envelope. Snape didn't have to break the seal, or search for the letter, which lead Hermione to the conclusion that Snape had read this particular letter many times.

"Care to tell me, Potter," Snape leaned closer to Harry, and Hermione was impressed that Harry didn't even blink, "Why you never chose to mention the contents of this letter to anyone? Myself, particularly?'

It was then that Hermione took notice of the color of Snape's parchment. It was red. The same shade of deep red that Harry's paper had been in his earlier memory.

"I have no idea as to what you are referring," Harry said calmly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really better be getting home now…"

Harry attempted to make a run for it, but Snape had obviously expected this outcome. With a lazy flick of his wand, Snape locked the office door, and Harry retreated back to the seat he had previously been occupying.

"You mean to tell me," Snape drawled, "that you have never seen the contents of this letter before today?" When Harry nodded defiantly, Snape's expression only grew more irritated. "Really, Potter," Although this seemed to be a question, Snape presented it more like a statement. "Not even in the summer of your fifth year at Hogwarts?"

"How do you bloody know about that?" exclaimed Harry, glancing back at the door longingly.

"After I read this note from your mother, I did some digging into the past of my own. Turns out, the werewolf knew all along, too. It explains why the two of you were never particularly close," a callous smile emerged on Snape's face. "Imagine what your dogfather would have said had he known you were Snape's bastard all along. Do you really think he would have thrown his life away for you then?"

Harry's hands curled into fists, and Hermione bit her lip at the suspense. Finally, Harry said, "You don't know what you're talking about. Sirius loved me, and he wouldn't have cared who my father was. _Sirius_ was a good person."

Snape let out a bitter laugh. "Let me tell you then, my boy, what kind of person Black really was. Do you think he would have given a damn about you, had he known? The only connection you had to Black was that you were the son of a man to whom he was slavishly devoted. Now, had you felt so obliged to share this precious information with him before his demise, I am confident you he would have murdered you himself and never that twice about it. That," Snape smirked, "is the kind of man Black truly was. _Son_," he added as an afterthought.

Harry shook with rage, then, coming to his senses, lifted his wand, and whispered, "Obliviate."

As Harry spoke that final spell, the memory faded, and Ron and Hermione returned to their home once again.

"Bloody hell," said Ron quietly, picking up the Pensieve and carelessly tossing it from one hand to the other.

"I know," said Hermione.

"Bloody hell," repeated Ron. Suddenly, the Pensieve in his left palm began to glow, and Hermione quickly snatched the object and began to read the inscription.

_Sorry I kept it a secret. Now the secret is yours, so you can decide whether to tell Ginny or Snape about this._

"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed for the third time in a row.

And for once, Hermione agreed that those were the perfect words for this predicament.

**Thanks for reading this! I'm not sure if this should be a one-shot or a full-length story, so please tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

My apologies to anyone who believed this to be an update! After receiving several negative responses to this story, I realized this story needs a lot of work, so I will be returning to work on, and re-write, the story at a later date.


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